


November 1st

by BlackIbis (WanderingBandurria)



Series: ComfortMiniFest [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Coping, Ficlet, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentioned Harry Potter, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin Raise Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:34:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26554447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WanderingBandurria/pseuds/BlackIbis
Summary: One day, Remus finds himself in Godric's Hollow under the rain and the weight of his loss.Sirius finds him there.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Series: ComfortMiniFest [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1931170
Comments: 8
Kudos: 84





	November 1st

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. I wrote this for swottypotter‘s Wolfstar Comfort Minifest on Tumblr. Check the other entries, there are a lot of beautiful works. This is for day 1: an anniversary.
> 
> Please consider that this deals with grief processes and it’s hurt/comfort - so it’s on the angst realm.
> 
> Thanks to LikeABellThroughTheNight & SwottyPotter for betaing it. It meant a lot to have both your help.

##  **November 1st**

He’s not sure how he ended up in Godric’s Hollow. He had just gone out for milk - no risk in that, was there? - when he had suddenly felt a hollow in his chest and the urgency to cry and scream at the sky. Shaking, he had run into an alleyway, let his weight fall against a wall, and closed his eyes as hard as he could, only thinking about _making it stop, making it stop, please_. Before he realized it, he was crouching in front of James’ and Lily’s tomb, dry-heaving, after twisting his body through the void of apparition. 

He knows that he’s actually lucky not to have splinched himself.

In Godric’s Hollow, the rain is pouring without pause over the graves, making them look almost black. He doesn’t have an umbrella, so as the water trails over his face, he thinks he should be grateful for it because it could serve as the perfect excuse to act like he’s not crying. He could bat at the tears, pat the stone, and go back home. With the rain, he can pretend that the tears coming out of his eyes are just a residue of the nausea of apparition - but he’s so _tired_. He’s just _tired_ , for once, and the sky is grey and the nighttime impending, so he doesn’t really try to stop himself. He falls from his crouch onto his knees, hitting the mud while grabbing the cold, wet stone with golden engraved letters between his fingers. He lets his forehead rest against it.

His tears are warm on his cheeks, and the stone is cold between his fingers. It feels weirdly immaterial, like it might crumble between his hands, disappearing with the rest of the world. He hears himself sob, not sure if it’s because of the cold or the pain of the void in his chest. 

He can’t feel his knees and _everything_ hurts.

“I don’t want you to see me like this,” he says, feeling someone at his back, although there’s no sound over the pouring rain. His voice is raw and watery and tears keep escaping from his eyes. It feels like an hour or two have passed by, in which his tired knees have given up, so now he’s resting his weight on his heels, his trousers covered in mud. His fingers trace, gently, the golden letters of the gravestone.

“You have the right to grieve,” Sirius’ voice is gentle as always, but it still makes Remus feel broken and useless. “They were your friends too.”

Remus stays quiet, tracing the golden _L_ and _J_ over and over again. 

“I know I’m being dumb,” Remus finally says, quietly. “I know we were here yesterday. I know I can tell you how I feel. I know you would listen…”

He grabs the top of the stone again and lets his forehead fall forward, a shiver going down his back - he’s so cold, his clothes soaked, his joints rigid, his nose tip hurting. 

The rain is still pouring heavily, so he’s not sure if Sirius can hear him. A part of him hopes he can’t.

“I just want to be able to wallow in self-pity on my own sometimes,” he sighs, mumbling with his lips almost brushing the wet stone. “I just want to yell at the sky ‘they were _my_ friends, and _no one_ understands my pain!’, even though I _know_ it’s not true. I just…” he swallows, feeling a tight knot in his throat. He can hear himself, and he feels disgusted with himself for putting his thoughts into words. “I’m so fucking egotistical,” he says chokingly, his fingertips feeling raw against the stone as he tries to dig into it, desperately, like it can bring some rest to his soul, like it can connect him with his lost friends.

“You are always so strong, Moony,” Sirius says softly, his voice carrying on over the rain, and Remus wants at the same time to laugh at how wrong those words sound and ask Sirius to leave, _leave him alone_. He moves his weight back to his heels and covers his face with his hands, as more tears pool in his eyes. “ _You are_ ,” Sirius insists, even though Remus is shaking his head. “You are always there to catch me when I’m losing myself. You are always there for Harry, even before he understands what’s going on with himself. You are not egotistical,” he says, and Remus can feel how he moves from behind him, and with a soft _thud_ , how he falls to the ground by his side. Even though they are not touching, he can feel Sirius’ warmth, and he feels even more ashamed for _wanting it_ and _hating it_. “You deserve to grieve,” Sirius repeats firmly, and the words feel like a hug. One that Remus didn’t want, but still envelopes him and helps him breathe.

A sob comes out of his mouth, without him being able to stop it. He feels the new tears trailing down his face, so he pushes his palms more firmly against it. He nods, softly, but he’s not sure if Sirius sees him do it.

They stay in silence, the cold seeping deeper into his bones, the emptiness in his chest disappearing slowly, being replaced by a dull ache and the softest hints of warmth. He takes his hands off his face when he has no more tears to shed, but he keeps his eyes on the ground. He breathes deeply and sighs, playing with the grass in front of him, trying to put some order in his mind.

“Where is Harry?” Remus asks softly.

“I left him with Molly,” Sirius answers simply, and he can feel the nervous shifting at his side, so he can’t stop himself from smiling and looking at Sirius. He knows his smile is sad, his face swollen and his eyes reddened, but Sirius looks at him, quietly and calmly, proud and sad, and like he’s the most beautiful person he’s ever seen.

Remus reaches and takes Sirius’ hand in his own, pulling it up to his mouth to kiss his cold fingertips softly, slowly.

“I’m sorry for breaking down,” he says, but Sirius is already moving to crouch in front of him, crowding him between his thighs, barely fitting in the space between Remus and the Potters’ grave, taking his cheek with his free hand.

“Don’t,” he says in a whisper. “I’m here, Remus. I’ll be here as you’ve been for me.” His eyes are sad as he breathes deeply into Remus’ mouth.

Remus nods, sniffles and smiles, and allows himself to kiss and nibble softly on Sirius’ fingertips again before falling forward with a deep breath, pushing his forehead against Sirius’ shoulder.

“Home?” Sirius asks softly, enveloping him with his arms.

Remus nods, pushes back and stands up, feeling his stiff knees protest. Sirius stays crouched for a second, looking at him with big, glassy eyes. His back is still turned to the tomb and the rain is plastering his hair to his neck and forehead.

Remus smiles tiredly and offers him a hand. 

“Home,” he answers back, before taking his wand from his pocket and casting a quick spell to rearrange the flowers that he, Sirius and Harry brought yesterday.

_Home_ , he thinks, squeezing Sirius’ hand with his, breathing deeply and thinking of the small house that smells like tea, cookies and them.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! let me know what you think with comments or kudos. I would love to read your own headcanons for Wolfstar rising Harry.


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